The 100
by InkHeart17
Summary: Short musings on given prompts. No specific character or pairings.
1. Phone & Red

AN: To keep from getting rusty, I'm attempting a one hundred prompts list. **They're just exercises so they won't be of the best quality.** I actually have four different lists so I'll stick a one, two, three, or four in front of the topic number to remind myself which list it's from. I'll link where I found the lists in my profile. With four lists, there's bound to be repeat topics so I had to alter a few of the words.

Disclaimer: I make no profit from this story and the characters belong to their respective owners at Nick and Viacom.

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1-08. Phone (Ty Lee)

Her heart sped up as the announcement came through the echoing pipes that served as a means of communication in the complex machine. Sabotage? She had taken down all the muscle-y earthbenders. Only one team in the Earth Kingdom would be hopeful enough to brave an attempt at sabotaging Azula. Ty Lee smiled to herself; she would get to see Cutie again very soon.

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2-11. Red (Katara)

Scarlet, crimson, rose, cerise, ruby, garnet, burgundy; No matter how many shades the nation had, it was all red. Didn't they ever get sick of it? With the war all around them, didn't it remind the denizens of how much bloodshed they had caused? _Or suffered_, Katara added as an afterthought.

It was practical to wear red as a disguise and Aang had said it set off her dark skin nicely, but seeing the swishing of her vivid colored skirt served to remind her of the same color staining the pure white snow on that terrible day when she was only eight years old. It filled her with a desire to make her clothes even brighter with the blood of the tyrant who had ordered that attack.

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AN: Yeah you try to think of a phone in the Avatarverse. Maybe if Sokka had two cups and some string...


	2. Ends & Foot

2-03. Ends (Aang)

"If you are killed in the Avatar State, the reincarnation cycle will be broken, and the Avatar will cease to exist." That was what Aang had been told. He thought it over and over lying on his futon in the tent where was still recovering. The narrow escape from death had made him so much more aware of his own mortality.

But with so much time to think, he began to realize that the cycle _would_ be broken in merely a few generations of this world. When this life was over, the Air Nomads' existence would disappear from the world entirely. The Water Tribes would be host to the new Avatar, and in time, so would the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation. But when the Air Nomads' turn in the cycle came around once more, what beings would be left to bear the next baby Avatar?

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3-18. Foot (Toph)

Her small soles were caked with dirt from a lifestyle of no shoes; her toenails hopelessly brown. The many roads she had walked created calluses that would challenge any pumice stone applied. Flexing her toes in the loose dirt made her feel so free. Being close to the earth was how she survived, but there was no room in the Fire Nation for a free, barefoot Earthbender. For survival's sake she was forced to scrub her feet clean and wear shoes that made her small toes feel so confined.


	3. Broken

2-71. Broken (little Zuko)

He stared at the remains of his toy palace. What was left of the structure was blackened with sooth and everything else was ash. The child prince and the mother figures were sooty stubs and the painted pond was gone. Zuko stood agape at what once was his favorite toy, knowing he'd never convince anybody that its destruction wasn't his own doing.

The new nanny bustled in to announce dinner only to follow the young prince's line of sight and gasp. "Prince Zuko! I'm shocked to find you treat your toys like this!" Zuko did not face his nursemaid and remained silent as she plowed on about how such a naughty child did not deserve such nice toys and his behavior _would_ merit punishment.

He was left alone to think about his actions only to hear a snicker from behind the sofa. "Come out, Azula!"

His sister slowly stepped from her hiding place with a delicious smirk on her face. "Back from you lessons, Brother?" she asked with a sick innocence.

"Why would you do this, Azula?" he shouted, gesturing to the miniature building.

The Princess assumed a matter-of-fact pose and said snootily, "You're living in a fantasy world, Zuzu. I'm merely reminding you of the reality."

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Mother's gone; you'll never sit with her in the garden again. Dad is Fire Lord now and as heirs to the nation, we need to focus on improving ourselves so we can serve him as best we can. You can't do that if you're playing with dolls. That's why you've yet to catch me in any lesson."

Zuko blinked sadly. "But it was just a toy." It didn't hurt anything.

"Exactly, Zuzu. Its loss is nothing."

"Stop calling me that!" he yelled. The Prince glanced at the toy again; regretting the loss of such an expensive and intricately crafted piece of work. His expression hardened and he growled softly, "You'd better own up to this, Azula."

"I don't think so, Zuzu," she said deadpan before exiting.

Zuko turned back to the pyre. He ran his finger along the sooty base. Azula was right on some level. What it had looked like and how he had set up the figures, it wasn't real anymore. Mother, Grandfather, Cousin Lu Ten, and perhaps Uncle were all gone. Such a broken family deserved this miniature broken home.


	4. Ghosts

4-78. Ghost (Zuko; post 312)

Sokka prodded the flaming log with a gnarled stick, making the ashy white wood split further open before tossing it into the fire as well. The flames were still going strong although everyone else had wound down for the day. Dinner had been over for awhile. It was still early; no one really wanted to go to bed yet. Zuko's first night had been awkward so far and Toph was having a time getting the others to speak up around the new ally.

"Do you know any ghost stories, Sparky?" she ventured.

Zuko lifted his chin from his chest to regard the earthbender.

Ghost stories? Zuko liked the occasional historic myth in his lessons, but Uncle was the story teller of the family. The prince remembered the stories too, but he could never tell them right, even to himself. Besides that, he didn't think ghosts were all that entertainment worthy. He was sure few people could make the distinction between what supernatural occurrences made good stories, and which ones should be avoided.

There were stories of spirits. Those were the good ones. Spirits exist like souls in things that are very much alive, ranging in anything from forests to towns to disciplines. All named and revered. They act to inspire, protect, and to simply endure.

Then there are ghost stories. Ghosts act as dark, pronounced memories; things that aren't alive, but live on through others and exist only to terrify. The scars of war, mangled corpses, ancient ruins… They remind people of horrible things, haunting someone's waking moments as if dreams weren't enough. Pain, loss, the inability to forget… And if they aren't horrible, they're miserable. Conjuring shadows of things that were and how they should've stayed. Lu Ten, Mother, world peace…

If people could distinguish the two, no one would be so keen to bring up that kind of storytelling. Such things are not to be mentioned in the dark.

"No," was his curt reply.

In a sarcastically eager way, Sokka spoke up. "Then I guess the burden falls to me. I never got to finish last time anyway. Ahem-"

Aang swiped his arm through the air. "No! We are not hearing about the haunted blade of Wing-Fun again."

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**AN:** Just gettin' back into the swing of things after such an extended sabbatical. (I'm also putting off a paper.) I tried for some drama here, but I think I failed. Especially adding such a light ending… Tell me I got _something_ right in the "dark" department.


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